


Tell Me Another Beautiful Lie

by angelowl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:46:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26343595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelowl/pseuds/angelowl
Summary: It was exciting, at least at first. Thrilling, even. The way they’d share a heated glance across a crowded room and slip away to some secluded spot, far away from prying eyes.Brienne was a thief, stealing moments that by all rights should’ve been beyond her reach. Hoarding fantasies that left scratch marks on his back, thumb prints on her hips. The only evidence of her crime that ever saw the light of day.But as the weeks passed, Jaime’s gaze began to flicker every time she greeted him at the office as if they were little more than casual acquaintances. His jaw would clench every time she inched away from him whenever they were in the presence of coworkers.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 61
Kudos: 245





	Tell Me Another Beautiful Lie

It was exciting, at least at first. Thrilling, even. The way they’d share a heated glance across a crowded room and slip away to some secluded spot, far away from prying eyes.

Brienne was a thief, stealing moments that by all rights should’ve been beyond her reach. Hoarding fantasies that left scratch marks on his back, thumb prints on her hips. The only evidence of her crime that ever saw the light of day.

But as the weeks passed, Jaime’s gaze began to flicker every time she greeted him at the office as if they were little more than casual acquaintances. His jaw would clench every time she inched away from him whenever they were in the presence of coworkers.

She didn’t blame him for his confusion. Boundaries had been blurred from the very start. If they’d just limited their interaction to sex, it’d all have been a lot more clear-cut. But no, they’d made the mistake of arguing with each other which led to joking with each other which led to confiding in one another and confessing secrets they’d never told another living soul. Soon they were hunkering down in a movie theater with popcorn one night, dining at a restaurant on the far edge of town the next.

They held hands sometimes, for god’s sake. Took moonlit strolls, counted the stars in the sky and whispered their hopes and dreams in the hush of the wee small hours of the morn. It was no wonder he was hazy on the details of their arrangement. They’d never really defined it…even though it was obviously just a series of hookups sprinkled with some companionship because she was lonely and he was new in town.

She tried to make it up to him in private. In the dark. Where they belonged. Where _she_ belonged.

After another day of avoidance on her part, cold fury on his, she wasn’t surprised when he ambushed her in the parking lot once everyone else had gone home. They’d been working on a project well after midnight when finally the boss had let them go. It was pitch-black, but Jaime’s golden hair lit him up like a beacon. He dragged her under a street lamp and kissed her angrily as if proving a point before she hustled him into the alley. He snarled at her, but they were both too impatient to squeeze into her hatchback and drive to a more appropriate location.

Brienne scrabbled with his belt as he hiked up her skirt and spread her legs. They both gasped, their foreheads touching when he finally sank into her. He tipped his chin upward and looked at her, studied her in the dim light as he drove into her fast and hard.

She’d never understood what he saw in her, why he’d plunked himself down beside her at the bar that night after his first workday. Why he’d ignored the pretty bartender making eyes at him. Or the five separate women who’d slipped him their number. Or the one who’d _accidentally_ spilled her drink over the front of herself so the flimsy material of her top clung to her impressive curves. Or the one who’d conveniently tripped and fallen right beside him so she could kneel at his feet, latch onto his knee for a long, lingering moment before regaining her footing.

He’d been amused, flattered, she could tell. He’d smiled winningly at them, but always dismissed them and immediately returned to irritating her with his borderline offensive line of questioning. Later they’d played pool and their competitiveness had taken a nasty turn with the pair of them yelling and whacking their cue sticks against the other’s. She still couldn’t recall how exactly that had led to them making out in her car with his hand up her blouse and his thigh between her own.

Or how him begging her for a ride home from work the next day and them bickering about the playoffs at the local diner had led to him fingering her in a bathroom stall. What she did recall was the way his palm covered her mouth when they heard a couple women enter the restroom, the way he hadn’t removed his other hand from between her legs. She’d whined in the back of her throat as his thumb only increased its pace, stroking her relentlessly until she was trembling so hard her knees almost buckled. After the women had filed out…an eternity later…he’d dropped to his knees, urged her quivering leg over his shoulder and put his tongue to her. She’d cried out, keening loudly, before remembering to slap her hand over her mouth to muffle her ecstatic sobs.

Her own behavior was as puzzling as his. Granted, he was gorgeous, but she wasn’t some impulsive, sex-crazed exhibitionist. No matter how good looking he was, he should never have been able to compel her to fool around in her car the same day she met him or to round third base the next night in a public bathroom of all places! She’d dated a grand total of two men in the past. Both lackluster and forgettable. And neither had ever inspired such reckless wantonness.

Jaime wasn’t to know it, but she’d been a virgin when he took her to bed at the end of that first whirlwind of a week. It’s not like she’d been saving herself for marriage or anything, but she’d thought when she finally had sex for the first time, it’d be with an understanding, patient boyfriend she’d been dating for months. Not an insanely hot, insanely annoying man she’d known for all of four days.

But when he’d taken her to his place, cooked a romantic candlelit meal that they only ate two bites of before lunging at each other, it’d just felt right when they fell into bed. She’d lost her hymen long ago, thanks to years of horseback riding so there was no telltale blood. She was sure she’d seemed clumsy and inexperienced, but that probably would’ve been true even if she’d bowed to peer pressure and gone all the way with Hyle or Tormund.

Hyle would’ve turned off all the lights, halfheartedly pawed at her then rolled her onto her stomach and finished in 10 seconds flat. Tormund would’ve wrestled her for dominance. If she came out on top, he’d have demanded she ride him while he gnawed on her nipples. If he’d won, he’d have mounted her, smacked her flank as if she were his prize filly. Neither of their bumbling, dehumanizing attempts would’ve prepared her for Jaime and how much pleasure he was able to wring from her.

Just arguing with him was more thrilling than anything she’d ever done before with her exes. And the sex…the sex was mind-blowing. So okay, maybe she did know why she’d turned into an insatiable hussy the minute he’d crooked his finger.

Jaime never said anything cutting about her lack of technique nor boasted about being her first so she’d probably gotten away with it, with him none the wiser about punching her v card. That was for the best. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. 

If she admitted the truth, he’d think she was nuts for wasting an experience that should be momentous on a virtual stranger. Or he’d think she was just that pathetic and needy and shallow that she threw herself at the first pretty face that showed an interest in her. 

And on top of all that humiliation, she’d essentially be imbuing their relationship with more meaning than either of them wished to attach to it. She couldn’t bear the thought of him regretting that night. Or fearing he took advantage of her or worse yet, him harboring a sense of duty or obligation to pretend what they have is more than it is.

She still isn’t certain what it is they have exactly.

Why he keeps seeking her out is a mystery for the ages. Does he think because of her unfortunate looks and manly figure that she’s like one of the guys and doesn’t see sex as a big deal? That she’s better equipped to handle a casual dalliance?

Or is it that he’s so far out of her league that someone like her would keep her expectations in check, be grateful for any scraps of affection he spared her? (Several choice remarks from Hyle rang in her ears.) But if that were true, why did he seem so disappointed in her whenever she tried to keep her distance?

Maybe she was making it weird by being so stilted and awkward during the day to him. Maybe her standoffishness made him feel guilty like she suspected he was just using her and was ashamed to be seen with her or something. (The thought had crossed her mind.)

She should try to loosen up. Play it cool.

Reframe the situation. They were two colleagues who shared an attraction and who turned to each other to scratch an itch sometimes. Less anonymous hookup, more friends with benefits?

Margaery and Sansa would know how to label it. But she hadn’t filled in either about her recent extracurricular activities. And had no intention of doing so.

What she had with Jaime wasn’t real, she was painfully aware of that. It was something fleeting, something beautiful and precious to her, yes, but something that could so easily be tarnished by a well-meaning friend who sought to protect her from herself. The entire interlude was a perfect sparkling bubble just waiting to be popped. Reality would come crashing down soon enough but for now, she wanted to linger in the realm of dreams a little longer.

She just needed to keep reminding herself of the truth so she didn’t get carried away and scare him off. God knows he’d lose interest in her even sooner if she expected too much, if she acted as disgustingly besotted as she felt.

Guys like him who could get almost anyone they wanted appreciated a challenge. Enjoyed the chase. He’d probably been intrigued by the fact that Brienne was the one woman who wasn’t fawning all over him at work or at the bar that first evening. (Not that she’d been so above it all and unmoved by his beauty or charm at the time; she simply hadn’t had the self-confidence to openly gawk at him.)

He’d probably assumed that she wasn’t like one of those silly girly girls with romance on the brain who longed for the fairy tale ending of falling in love and marrying a good man and who’d project that fantasy onto him. If only he knew how wrong he was. She was quite silly, especially when it came to him.

Take right then, for instance. He was staring at her intently and moving inside her, and her heart was fluttering like some lovestruck, dewy-eyed schoolgirl. At least it was hopefully too dark in the alley for him to see her blush.

When his gaze became too much, she launched herself at him, kissing him feverishly before she said something foolish. His touch grew more insistent in response as if he could sense the clock ticking, counting down their time together.

He pulled her closer and tugged at the buttons of her blazer so he could get to bare skin. His nimble fingers skimmed her ribs before cupping her breast and thumbing a nipple. When she shivered, he bowed his head to lick a fiery path from her navel up to lavish attention on the sensitive stretch of skin between her breasts where cleavage would exist if she were a more endowed woman.

He always liked to mark her right there. He claimed the smattering of freckles in that precise location resembled his initials and that they were just begging for his signature. Once he was satisfied, he drew back and palmed her thigh. She fit her lips to his jaw before swooping upward to capture his mouth when he murmured impossible things, impossible promises that would never be kept.

He usually fucked her harder when she tried to shut him up, but this time he slowed down. He pressed her against the brick wall, held her fast, and fucked her so slowly, so deeply, she whimpered. His hand feathered softly over her cheek even as she urged him to speed up. She squeezed her inner walls the way she knew drove him wild, but he refused to be goaded.

He merely gentled his kiss further and hefted her up higher, pinning her in place as he ground into her at a leisurely pace. The intoxicating combination of his mouth brushing hers so tenderly while his body rocked against hers so sweetly made her ache for him. She clutched at his shoulders and could only hang on and ride it out.

It wasn’t fair. He wielded his affection like a weapon, the sharp edge of it thrumming with a secret, a lie.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

The cover of darkness still kept them safe, hidden in its shadows, so she hooked her ankles around his lower back and let herself cling to him, let him take her weight, her breath, her heart.

Lie to me, she thought. Lie to me some more.

He kissed her neck and groaned approvingly at her surrender, smiled against her skin and she let him tell her everything she wanted to hear.

When dawn lit the horizon and pierced the veil of make-believe, Brienne pulled away from Jaime. She straightened her clothes, smoothed his tie without meeting his eye then headed for her car. She needed to drive home, shower, find another less rumpled suit and generally look a little less like she’d spent the last couple hours fucking in the alleyway outside their office.

She kept her mind on her to-do list and purposely averted her gaze from the lone figure of Jaime in her rearview mirror.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a tumblr anon based on the prompt - secret dating. I may add onto this ficlet later, but I'm still working on a few other prompts first.


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